


I lost a friend, I lost my mind

by aGoldenSpikeHell



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Aiden, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mild Blood, Minor Eskel/Lambert (The Witcher), Slash, Smut, The Witcher 3 Spoilers, Top Lambert (The Witcher)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27226621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aGoldenSpikeHell/pseuds/aGoldenSpikeHell
Summary: Small things, habits picked up in many days and nights together, learning each other quirks without ever pointing them out, without ever judging but simply accepting them and learning what to do with them, cause they know fully well that sometimes fighting and fucking until they were out of energy was not enough, cause they were on edge and everything threatened to set their nerves off, so their best chance was trying to smooth out the razor-sharp corners of their frustration with soft touches and whispered words in the quiet.Lambert finds out about Aiden's death and has a hard time coping with it. He seems to be way too emotional for someone who's not even supposed to have feelings.Learning to be alone again is a complicated thing, and the fact that cats follow him around everywhere doesn't help. In a certain way, he's not really all alone.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher)
Kudos: 25





	1. I Lost a Friend

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to I Lost a Friend and it made me think about Lambert and Aiden for some reason. I don't know why, I just got this idea in my head and it kept nagging me until I started to write it down. Nothing is canon here, except Aiden's death, everything else is my own nonsense. Not many warnings for this chapter, but I'll update the tags as I post. 
> 
> English is clearly not my first language, sorry for all the mistakes! Let me know what you think of it if it makes sense or where did I go wrong.

There’s no body and there’s no grave. 

Dead Witchers? It doesn’t make sense to have a grave for something that already filled people’s nightmares when it was alive. 

There was a space somewhere, a dirty and soon forgotten corner of earth where the medallions were buried, but that was it. 

Not wanted in life, not missed in death. 

And yet, Lambert fucking missed the Cat.

For a time he wore the cat medallion around his neck hidden and tucked away under his shirt, he made the chain longer for that sole purpose, even if it was weird wearing two. It seemed such a great idea until he woke up one night scratching and clawing at his chest, cause he felt like there was not enough air in the entire forest for him to breath in and the cold eyes of the cat were definitely moving, watching him, twitching and staring like they expected something from him but he has absolutely nothing to give. Another dream filled with green eyes slowly turning dull and empty, words dying on chapped lips, blood-splattered hair, and a cloud of red blooming under a familiar body. 

It’s not the first dream of this kind he had in the last month, Aiden’s death haunts every moment of his life except when he’s killing something. When he tears off the chain from his neck Lambert stares at it like it has all the fucking answers in the world, If he listens hard enough he’ll catch them, he just has to learn to listen.

The night is still and calm, the fire still crackling over the soft sound of the wind between the trees carrying nothing but silence. His life has always been filled with silence, noise usually meant bad news: his mother and he had to be quiet in the house to not further irritate his asshole of a father, cause they didn't want to give him another excuse to lash out at them, he was already beating them enough. Kaer Morhen was always silent, except during the trials so if the silence broke it was replaced by screams and agony and cries for endless hours. Life on the path was not without sounds, never the good kind though, cause nobody ever willingly talked to witchers unless they had a contract and monsters were harder to fight when they were irate because of the noise, already screeching and scratching enough as they were. Silence was the uncomfortable calm before the storm in his life.

Everything had to be silent to be fine until Aiden appeared. Then, the silence was comfortable, filled with a heartbeat as slow as his own, holding no expectations that he couldn't fulfill. Not that the cat was ever silent for too long anyway, but the words out of his mouth somehow never bothered Lambert cause Aiden never expected anything from him and never demanded more than what he could give. He didn't push him to talk when he felt like being on his own, he accepted his horrible habit of not thinking before speaking, and he called him out on his bullshit when he tended to lash out at anything and anyone just because he was upset or trying to protect himself. 

Aiden seemed to recognize the difference when he was silent because there was no need for words and when his mind was racing too fast and his thoughts were all dangerously closing in and choking him. Not only Aiden knew when to leave him alone and when not, but he also seemed to be able to pull him out of that rushing jumble of dark thoughts threatening to overwhelm him and he made it look so fucking easy. Soon enough Lambert discovered that everything in his life required a huge amount of effort: fighting, living on the run, the hardships of the path, the choices always taken from him. Being with Aiden was easy. 

Being with Aiden was simply effortless. Traveling the path together seemed to make more sense and for once in his life, Lambert chose this. His choice was to be with Aiden, it's the only one that was not stripped from him, and the one he never regretted.

Before Aiden, he longed for winter. His poor excuse of a home was still better than life on the path, and while Kaer Morhen housed some of his most painful memories, it was the closest thing to a place and a family he ever called his own. But after he met Aiden there was not the same peace in the idea of walking up The Killer to the empty ruins for the long winter months, too much time to be on his own, and facing his brothers always made him understand how he was still not enough. He loved them, he'd die for them, but they represented everything he could never be. Spring seemed an entire lifetime away, and by the end of winter Lambert was fidgeting and itching to leave as soon as possible, the promise of seeing Aiden in Kaedwen alluring as the song of a siren and he couldn't even pretend he wanted to resist it. His brothers had their fair share of snarky comments and jokes ready for him, but not even the concern for whatever opinion they shared on his behavior was enough to keep him in the castle as soon as the snow melted. 

Aiden had the habit of asking him how much he missed him as soon as they were in the quiet bubble of their room in some inn or the other and Lambert had the habit of telling him to fuck off, kissing him hungrily and biting on his neck too hard on purpose, as if he was trying to reclaim something that belonged to him. There was this need under his skin to touch and feel Aiden everywhere at once, committing again to memory the map of his skin, the only place where he could lose himself. He'd notice if there were any new scars, breathing in the scent of spices and mint that now meant home to him, and always kissing with something close to reverence the long scar under his ribs that Lambert patched up himself the year before. He missed the Cat, terribly. He missed him when he was gone for two days on a contract, months were nothing short of torture. 

The knowledge that he'll miss him for the rest of his miserable life is too much for him to take. Aiden never hesitated before answering I missed you too.

He gave up any fantasy of sleep he may have had, coming to terms with the fact that he's clearly not going to rest tonight. Again. He stares into the fire, willing the tangled mess in his mind to sit still, but it never works when he's alone. Aiden would help, but Aiden's not here. He's not anywhere. 

Would it be better if there was a grave to dig? Or a pyre to build, if there was wood to collect, something to set on fire and watch it burn until dawn, maybe, just maybe, Lambert could force himself to finally say goodbye. To tell him how wrong he was about that vampire nest contract, and how he always cheated at Gwent because he's an asshole that doesn’t know how to lose, that his words always come out all wrong and _I really wanted you to come to Kaer Morhen for winter, I don't care what anyone says, sorry, I love you. Will you still hear it I say it enough times now?_ It's always words that cause trouble in his life, words he meant to say but he never did and words he shouldn't have said and he regrets them now when it's too late to take them back. Between the two of them, it has always been a constant push and pull on a rope stretched thin by too much anger, and not enough choices.

Lambert remembers the first time they met. And the first time they kissed. The cold tight squeeze in his chest just where the medallion usually rests never seems to ease. There's this cat-shaped necklace dangling in front of him and it seems to whisper at him about how he failed again, as he always did his whole life, and Aiden could have had so much better. And it's true, cause in the middle of the night every part of him knows that Aiden deserved someone better, not someone who ran or kissed him in the middle of a rotting vampire nest. Aiden deserved the world and he couldn't even give him one winter.

*****

"I told you it was a nest." Aiden extracts his sword from the body of the last vampire he killed, the one that managed to claw at his thigh. The cut already stopped bleeding by the time he catches his breath and looks around at the mess of severed heads and bodies surrounding them.

"Why are you still fucking talking?" Lambert is laying against a tree, there are claw marks on his chest where one of the beasts scratched his armor and his back is probably already one giant black and blue bruise considering how many times he was slammed against the wall of the cave.

"Well, it got my leg darling, not my tongue." The cheeky tone doesn't go unnoticed, Lambert raises his eyes to where Aiden is standing, cleaning his swords before he starts rummaging through their packs.

"You never shut up, do you?" Lambert adds growling, trying to hide the pain spreading from his side and back while he sits up, using the trunk as support. He closes his eyes for a heartbeat, steeling himself to get up and prepare to finish their job, and the next time he hears Aiden’s voice is suddenly much closer than he anticipated. The Cat is leaning on the very same tree, looking down at him with a vial in his hands.

"You know you don't scare me you big stupid wolf, growl all you like. Now let me take a look at that." Lambert wishes he had enough strength to come up with a nasty comment or punch him, but he doesn't feel like moving anymore. The scent of the Cat so close to him is relaxing him, more than it should be, his shadow is so close to him that if he stretches his fingers just a bit he'll be able to touch him. He wants to touch him. 

For weeks he has been craving something he can't have, and he knows he's not supposed to need that, though that knowledge doesn't stop him from wanting. He's convinced that the Cat sure as hell don't want to be touched by him, his attitude is just empty comebacks and nothing more, but at times it is harder to focus on that. Certain times like when Aiden is that close to him, and he's been thinking way too often about how bad would it be to kiss his...friend.

"I'm fine."

"Sure, I hear your bones cracking every time you breathe but you're doing great, I see that." Aiden passes him a vial and he gratefully gulps down half of it, the familiar taste of Swallow spreading on his tongue. Lambert must admit that it’s nice to have the Cat around. It will be painful when Aiden leaves like everyone else. It’s just a matter of time before he gets tired of the Wolf. Lambert doesn't believe in the Gods, he'd pray to them if he did, pray to be ready for that pain when it happens. He hopes they still have some time together before Aiden decides he can’t stand him anymore and their little agreement is over but he also knows that nobody ever stays for long.

"Good to know you didn't poison me."

"See? I didn't kill you yet, don't we make an excellent couple? Will you let me take a look now or are you scared I'll bite? I promise I won't. Unless you like it of course." There's nothing funny about their situation, but leave it to the Cat to flirt with him when they are stranded in the middle of nowhere 'cause their horses ran away scared. And it is fun to pretend there’s more underneath his words, except it wasn't flirting of course, Aiden talks like that to everyone. 

He has been warned countless times about how witchers from the School of the Cat can be too passionate, physical and most of the times unbalanced. Some mage decided it was fun to tweak with the formula before the trials and realized his mistake only when everyone involved died. Of course the bastard didn’t stop there, mages never did, and kept playing with the mutagens until the children involved lived. Well, 5 out of 13 lived, the asshole considered it a victory and sent the recently made Witchers on their merry way. Lambert has heard the story before, it’s different when Aiden tells him though, cause he was there. It still doesn’t stop him from pointing out the obvious from time to time.

"You cats are really fucking weird." And Aiden doesn’t even get mad anymore, he knows there’s no judgment behind Lambert’s words.

"Yes, comes with the package love, thank you for noticing. Take this off so I can properly look at you, want to make sure nothing is broken."

"Don't need you to. I'm good." He'd never admit that he likes Aiden's attention on him cause he can almost believe that the Cat cares for him in some way. Almost. Lambert's mind quickly supplies that Aiden probably doesn't want to drag him across a swamp and the forest with a few broken bones cause it would take forever.

"Clearly I'm the only one with some sense here, so how about you keep that pretty mouth shut and let me help you." Aiden kneels next to him on a patch of dry ground, and Lambert never really understood how the Cat could always be so attractive.

"Clothes off, now pup." There’s no way he’s allowed to say something like that, more so because Lambert seems unable to resist him, and his hands are already making quick work of the buckles on his armor. He likes to believe that Aiden stares as if he was enjoying the view.

"Well kitten, I know I'm hard to resist but you don't need an excuse to see me half naked."

"Don't I? Oh, I'll hold you that promise later." Lambert wants him to, he'll deny it to himself later when they're in a rented room and he's not listening to the Cat’s breathing to fall asleep. He discards his sweaty shirts and tries to relax, fighting the suddenly kicking instinct inside him that doesn't like the idea of having someone so close when he's so exposed and he's not even clutching a dagger or two. For a few seconds, he has a hard time remembering that the Cat wanted to help him and not kill him. Aiden must sense his thoughts cause he's removing his two swords to gently lay them on the ground next to his legs, the metal shining in plain sight like some weird peace offering.

"I'm not going to kill you, wolf."

Lambert turns around while the Cat silently moves behind him, he wants to say something but he's unable to put together the words to express his appreciation. It's not a small thing for a witcher to leave his weapons, he knows that very well, he's always reluctant to do the same, he's not sure he’d even think of doing it if the roles were reversed. Aiden did, and he had no reason to be this considerate with him, not a single one.

He so lost in his own though that the first touch catches him by surprise and the feeling of Aiden's fingers on his back make him jump a little, but it's his voice right next to his hear, close, so close that he feels the gentle puff of his breath on the skin of his neck that makes him shiver.

"Just relax and be a good pup for me." Lambert is sure that Aiden said something else but he didn't catch it. The Cat is too close to him, his words, his scent of spices mixed with the sweat of the fight, the touch of his hand, it all overwhelms his senses in a way he had never experienced before. He desperately wants to lean against him and feel more of everything that Aiden seems to be so easily offering and it takes a willpower Lambert didn't even know he has to stop himself from moaning when both of his hands press over his back. 

He tries very hard to remind himself that this is not supposed to feel good, this is simply an act of kindness, a friend checking if you're hurt, it's not meant to make him feel like he's standing too close to a great source of magic and his senses are alerted, but then Aiden's hand is at the back of his neck, warm and inviting and there's no way in hell the Cat missed the sound that escaped his lips. He's cursing every God he can think of for the way his body betrays him, but then the feeling is gone, Aiden is gone, he's standing and collecting his swords again as if nothing ever happened. He knows there's a smirk on his face by the sound of his next words but Lambert is afraid he'll do something stupid if he looks up at him, so right now staring at his hands in his lap is perfectly good for him.

"Good news, whatever was broken is already fixed but your back will be blue for a while. Bad news, we still have a pile of dead vampires to burn."

It takes a moment longer than necessary for Lambert to register the meaning of his words, his body still tingling from where Aiden touched him, the scent of spices and something fresh, is it mint? lingers around him. Oh he's so screwed.

"Lambert?" He pretends to busy himself with his shirt, just to keep his hands occupied and preventing him from reaching out to the Cat. He finally composes himself enough to look at Aiden: long and deceptively lean legs stretching in front of him, clothed in blue and covered in a layer of dust, narrow waist with too many belts tightly buckled, strong muscular chest and arms crossed over the layers of leather and armour, a scar on the side of his neck, barely visible under the dark caramel curls, green and intelligent cat-eyes looking straight at him. Lambert wonders for a minute if his eyes were that green even before he was turned into a Witcher, cause usually the colours were always altered. Wolf at best had amber eyes, at best meaning Geralt, lucky bastard as always.

"Are you sure nothing is still broken? Cause I really don't feel like moving around vampire's heads."

"That, my dear wolf, is called being a lazy ass, and has nothing to do with your not-broken back."

"Fine, fine, if I strain myself I'll blame your poor nursing abilities," says Lambert before standing up. Aiden’s lips were curled in a smirk, he looked all too pleased with himself. Nobody should be so beautiful.

"Oh trust me wolf, I’d knew perfectly well how to take care of you."Damnit. That was not supposed to sound enticing.

They start working together, dragging the bodies around and collecting the dry wood they could find. Aiden was moving quickly, keeping his hands and mind busy to get rid of the adrenaline rush. 

Lambert finds himself staring without even realizing he's doing it. He is torn between feeling unnerved by how Aiden managed to keep a sense of grace even covered in sweat and dust, collecting firewood to burn some fucking vampires after the shitty night they had, and the burning temptation of running his fingers through his sweaty hair down the side of his face, just to feel the warm skin under his palm. Sometimes he sees him panting with strain and when his lips twitch in the most inviting way, lips that seem to demand to be kissed, and it's a sin to leave him waiting....

"See something you like pup?" Aiden's voice distracts him from his dangerous thoughts, and thank for that cause there's no way he was thinking about how good it would feel to kiss the only friend he ever had. Lambert is determined to not ruin the frail bond between them just because he's probably horny. He never had a friend, especially not one like Aiden. He constantly fears losing him, he knows it will happen, but he doesn't want to speed up the process and send the Cat running away cause he dreams of his mouth. He has reasons enough to dump him anyway.

"Don't call me that. And there's not much to like about this rotting nest."

"Oh you know how to brighten the mood, don't you, pup?"

"For what? Burning vampires? If this is your ideal date then I'm sorry for your lovers, but I've got bad news." He can't seem to remember when was the last time Aiden mentioned a lover but he's pretty sure he talked about someone from the caravan. Lambert tried to make fun of the weird Cats habit to easily sleep with others from the same school as if he never spent a winter in Eskel’s bed. Lambert also knows that there's an asshole out there that left him and hurt him, when Aiden shares that story he has to stop himself from hunting the whoreson down wherever he may be and rip him to shreds.

"And you are a real expert when it comes to dates and lovers, aren't you?"

"Wouldn't you like to find out, kitten," He wasn’t an expert, considering that he rarely even asked for the same whore in a brothel and every attempt at relations ended in his lovers running away, vanishing or dying. It was always bickering and poking fun at each other between the two of them, trying to get under the skin, riling the other up just to see who would quit first. It was nothing more than a game. He's still chastising the part of him that decided to be jealous of anyone that ever had Aiden in ways he'll never be allowed to have. There must be some lucky bastards around the Continent that kissed him, touched him, fucked him, woke up with sheets full of his scent.

"Well, I'd love to find out. Is that a promise?"

Lambert quits first this time, because there's something in Aiden's tone that tells him the cat is not kidding, and what if he isn't? Maybe the teasing is not just empty banter and there's a very small chance that Aiden wants him too. Lambert shakes his head, internally laughing at the absurd thoughts that cross his mind, and goes back to the pile of wood, brushing the stupid idea aside. 

The Cat didn't want him. It was good enough that he treated Lambert as an equal and most of the times he didn't judge him for his idiotic decisions, there's nothing more he could ask. That's more than anyone has ever been willing to give him. Aiden could have anyone in the world and he's too smart to be interested in a mess like Lambert. Nothing is interesting about him. He doesn't have bright and clever green eyes, he doesn't know what patience is and he can barely string enough words together on a good day to make sure people understood him, he doesn't smell like mixed spices and yes, the fresh tang he detects its definitely mint, it reminds him of the field behind his house when he was a child. Oh yes, it will burn like hell when Aiden leaves. If only the Cat would stop being so....easy to like.

"Let's just burn this motherfuckers so we can get a drink."

"I like how there's a we now. Any plans for us?"

"Gods you're exhausting, how does anyone put up with you?" It’s one second after the words leave his mouth that Lambert realized what he said. It's one second after the shadow of anger and hurt flicker on Aiden's face that he understands he fucked up and he can see the cloud of emotions passing inside him.

"Oh fuck, I...don't...."

"It's fine, exhausting is hardly the worst thing I've been called. Won't be the worst. I probably am anyway."

"Didn’t mean it, fuck, I...."

"Save it. Not the first time I hear it." The pieces of the puzzle suddenly clicked inside Lambert's head and stories traded in front of the fire echo in his head. 'Oh you're wrong, I'm not the one doing the up and leaving part. I'm the one that is too much to deal with and they leave. There's a reason why they say Cats are not very stable, everyone gets tired of that.’ Aiden doesn't look at him, his eyes are focused on the pile of dead bodies before him and this gives Lambert an accurate idea of how much he fucked up: it speaks volume if your companion (friend?) would rather stare at dead vampires than at you. He didn't even mean to take it so far, it was just supposed to be another joke. He would never hurt Aiden on purpose.

"Listen, what I meant was...."

"Don't. I don't need pity. Not from anyone, and especially not from you. Let's finish this up and let's go."

"Oh you stupid bastard, it's not that! I say the wrong things all the time, there's a reason why everyone always says I have no brain left to save my own life, Eskel is the smart one, I'm just the angry idiot, point is..." He looks up at the Cat and Aiden is upset. His hands are clenched at his sides and Lambert doesn't really know how to fix it. 

He wants to walk over and grab him, hold him close until the anger is gone, and if he was a better man he'd try to explain that nobody ever taught him how to fix anything, let alone how to not break things. He can't stand the idea of Aiden being angry at him and he doesn't need to add this to the list of reasons why he hates himself. 

"...I'd put up with you. "

"Oh thank you, how very generous of you. You'd put up with me like you put up with your duty and your contracts? You know what, shut up. You made it clear enough you don't like me and you don't want to have me around, I got it." Aiden is still not looking at him, and he sounds so different than any other time they fought before. Disappointment, that's what he sounds like. That's how every person that ever mattered spoke to Lambert at some point, usually before beating him, leaving him or disappearing from his life. He could take a whipping any day now, but he still can't take the disappointed voices telling him how much he messed up.

"I....I don't. I mean I do like you. Not this...close to me. The longer you stay around the harder it will be for me when you go."

"Do you want me to go? "

"I don't know, I never thought you would not not go." Since they decided to travel together after Temeria, Lambert has been waiting for Aiden to go, trying to prepare himself for the inevitable moment of truth. He's been expecting it like you expect a storm when you see dark clouds brewing at the horizon. Something inevitable you can't escape.

"Why? I made it clear enough that I liked sticking around you." Aiden's voice is softer now, still laced with pain but less angry, less hurt.

"Yes, for the contracts, slaying monsters is easier if there's two of us, less dangerous." Aiden moves too quickly for him to follow his steps and he is standing right in front of him, looking straight at him.

"You honestly believe I kept traveling with you just because I want someone to watch my back?" There's something in his tone he can't picture what it is, but Aiden is looking at him, and he has a little smirk on his face, so maybe this means things are not as bad as they were two minutes ago, maybe Lambert can hate himself a little less now. If Aiden leaves now, he won't leave angry at least. It's a small victory.

"Seemed like a good idea as any. You kept sticking around. I've been trying to get rid of you but you don't get the hint."

"You're not doing any better when it comes to hints dropped around. Do you want to get rid of me? " Lambert doesn’t have the presence of mind to collect his thoughts, he’s feeling too raw, like the pink edges of the almost-healed gash on Aiden’s leg where his eyes fall.

"What the fuck does that mean? I don't fucking know! Sometimes I want you to get as far away from me as possible. Sometimes I want to kiss you." It's more words than he ever had the guts to tell anyone, probably in his entire life, and this conversation was never meant to happen. Aiden never had to know, he has already plenty of reasons to leave. There must be something he can say to take back that last part, maybe Aiden will agree to pretend it never happened.

"Then fucking kiss me you stupid pup!"

"Stop saying things you don't mean, it's...."

Aiden crashes their lips together before any other question could be asked out loud. It takes Lambert the fraction of a second to close his eyes, frozen in his spot and trying to make sense of the whole thing, but it feels as good as it always does in his dreams just before he wakes up. Maybe this is not something that he needs to make sense of, so he dares kissing him back. His heart is racing too fast, and his mind blanks out the very instant Aiden's hand is on his neck. He can't get enough of his lips, Aiden tastes like the best thing he ever had, and he wants to stretch time in a slow line before them so he can savor him for a little longer. Or forever.

When Aiden moves back to put a little space between them he doesn't want to let him go, the gap there is suddenly too big and Lambert is not completely sure he can survive without kissing him again.

"I meant it. Did you?"

Lambert really wants to say yes, but words, treacherous things as they are, refuse to crawl out of his throat, so he just leans his forehead against Aiden's and breathes in his scent, mint, and honey, and a mix of spices that will always mean happiness from now on. He has never felt so vulnerable, but for the first time in his life, this doesn't make him want to run and hide or put on his armor. He just wants to kiss Aiden until the noise in his head stops. 

He sneaks a hand into the soft brown curls, fingers itching to touch what he never thought he could have, and brings their lips together again, hunger and desire pooling inside him as he roughly kisses Aiden once more. He's quickly growing addicted to that taste, Aiden's mouth is sweet and warm and he feels all of his anger and frustration melting away against him. Lambert deepens the kiss, and can't help but moan when a hand presses at the small of his back, the strength and power of the body wrapped around his own is strangely reassuring, in a way no one has ever been before. Lambert raises a hand to trace the side of Aiden's face, his beard tickling his palm and the first touch of their tongues makes him burn. Lust sparks deep inside him, making him crave more, he wants to know what Aiden tastes like everywhere, and if he feels like is skin is on fire too.

Aiden pressed their bodies together as close as possible, moaning in the most sensual sound Lambert has ever heard in his life. He even has the nerve of licking his lips after they part, making a scene of savoring their combined tastes, as if he doesn't know what it does to Lambert.

"Took you damn long."

"You could have said something!"

"Wolf, I've been saying something for the past three months. You spend so much time in your head you didn't notice." Lambert mutters something under his breath that suspiciously sounds like 'how could I have known' and Aiden just laughs.

"Let's finish this up and get a move on, if we're lucky our employer will pay without making a scene and we can find a room. I’d like to do this some more without the added bonus of dead vampires." Lambert blinks twice, looking around as realization dawns on him.

"Fuck! I forgot about the damn nest!"

"Did I kiss you stupid, pup?"

"Shut up."

He's growling at the Cat, pretending to be mad while he piles up wood and Aiden is laughing again. That is the best sound in the world.


	2. I Lost my Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I tried my best at writing how Lambert finds out about Aiden’s death and what happens in the aftermath so watch out for a little angst?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lockdown day number: I lost count. There is a part 2! Is it less trash than part 1? No, I mean I wrote it, what did you expect. Please put up with me, there is plot and I'd like to think I know where I'm going with this. 
> 
> English is still not my first language sadly, I don't have a beta, all the mistakes are mine.

He's always dreaming of Aiden lately, and he can still feel the blood on his own hands when he wakes up, it's splattered on his clothes, soaking through the fabric from where he kneels on the ground next to the dead body and it makes him want to scrape and scratch at his skin until the feeling is gone.

Lambert never saw Aiden's body, and part of the guilt he feels boiling inside him every time he thinks of his best friend comes from the fact that he can't stand the thought of his lover dying alone. The medallion came to him later, when he tracked down the Dyn Marv Caravan, worry fraying his nerves into a sickly thin rope ready to snap, cause Aiden was not at any of their usual spots and Lambert had been moving from one village to another asking at every inn but no one had seen the other Witcher since before winter. 

There was a bitter taste on his tongue every time he left a certain tavern empty-handed, a mixture of disappointment and frustration. By the time he decided to follow the trail of the Caravan the sharp twist in his senses every time another innkeeper or maid sent him on his way without any helpful information had been vexing him so much that he felt almost raw and he couldn't ignore it anymore. He knew something had happened to Aiden. Something always happened to the people he cared about, and most of the time it was his fault.

The Caravan wasn't particularly hard to find, but it still was a challenging decision to go looking for them. He knew the other Cats had no sympathy for him, the rivalry between their schools was older than the Continent itself, and it was no secret that in time they began accepting contracts on humans, turning them into nothing more than highly-skilled assassins and thieves. Aiden was not beyond stealing here and there, of course, but a few times he said he had refused to add more corpses to the baggage he was already carrying, weighing down on whatever was left of his conscience, if Witchers had one at all. 

_Once, they were settled in the woods south of Temeria, relaxing before walking into town the next morning. They had found this small clearing, easy to defend on all sides in case of a monster making a sudden appearance, and they decided to make camp, both of them wanting to enjoy the quiet of the forest for one more night. They know it didn't mean safety, but it was still better than the villages, with their constant loud dissonance, with too many eyes, and too many people pointing fingers all the time. Being around humans always meant being extra careful, cause people too easily turned against them at the first sign of any inconvenience._

_Aiden was chatty that night, the calm of the evening keeping the rumble of words from his chest steady, and Lambert will never admit it but he truly enjoys listening to him talking, cause he can just focus on his tone, and that soft voice helps him keep his thoughts under control. It's less messy in his head when Aiden is close, he can simply lay there splayed on a blanket, his head pillowed on Aiden's lap, with the Cat running his magical fingers through his hair and enjoying the moment._

_He was telling Lambert about this job he did with one of his brothers, something about lifting a curse on the sister of a bastard mage that tried to trick them, and that's how he slipped into the topic of the other questionable jobs his fellow Witchers were willing to take. He didn't try to deny that he did the same thing as the other Cats for a while, as a Witcher he had to do terrible things, just like the rest of them, and Lambert would never judge him for that. At least Aiden had enough honesty in himself to speak the truth about what he did. Lambert had met so many bastards with the face and the acts of an innocent monk and their hands as dirty and bloody as everyone else, just a bunch of bragging hypocrites, that's what they were._

_"We were made to kill monsters, some of my brothers would argue that death is death, but it's not Wolf, it's not. Cheating, and stealing, and deceiving is one thing, I won't pretend I'm not a horrible person. But when you start killing humans the lines blur out a lot more, it changes you. Usually, in a version of yourself that you eventually learn to hate."_

_"I don't think you're horrible. I mean, only sometimes." Lambert opened his eyes to look at the face above him and he met the endless green he adores. Aiden was looking at him with an amused expression, the motion of his fingers through his hair came to a halt, and Lambert whined at the loss._

_"Only sometimes, ah? Well, that's a relief considering you're stuck with me for a good while." Aiden leaned down to press a kiss to his lips, his hand now trailing down his face to his chest, resting just above his heart, the slow rhythm reassuring and soothing. Lambert opened his lips the moment he felt Aiden's tongue flicking against them, the taste invading his mouth in the most delicious way. He could just kiss him for hours and never get tired of that. The Cat straightened his back licking his lips, and Lambert brought his hand on top of the one on his chest. He had never been one for affection, but since the Cat walked into his life he tried to steal little kisses and small touches every chance he got._

_"How long is a good while?"_

_"As long as you want. So don't get tired of me just yet, pup." Aiden was always beautiful, but bathed in the firelight, with flames dancing in his perfect eyes and his legs stretched out in front of him, leisurely crossed at the ankles, warm and content, he looked like a divine gift. Lambert raised his fingers to trail his profile, slowly caressing the side of his face, almost afraid that if he dared too much that mystical creature would break right before his eyes and vanish forever._

_"You'll get tired of me. I mean, I'm awesome, but I'd get tired of myself too." Aiden looked at him right in his eyes, the serious look he had on his face was the one that meant he wasn't fooling around anymore, he was about to say something important._

_"Never gonna happen. You're always gold to me."_

Finding the Caravan was not the smartest decision, just being close to where they made camp meant risking his life, but he didn't care, this was his last resort, fear and concern were bound to kill him anyway if he didn't find Aiden soon, cause when Witchers go missing there's only one place they can be found: death. To directly approach the Caravan alone felt wrong, it went against every instinct he had, he felt exposed, like an easy target. As desperate as he was, he was still not completely stupid, so he lingered at the edge of the clearing for a second too long on purpose to make his presence announced. 

Lambert had seen other Cat witchers only a handful of times before, and he had never seen the whole Caravan, Aiden thought it was not safe for him to meet them, probably for the very same reason why he never took his Cat to the Wolves den: suspect and rejection were looming too close, no one was interested in risking bloodshed. Meeting on the road was one thing, paths were meant to cross at some point, but going home was an entirely different story, it was a sacred space, and it was too risky to invade that place, a balance too precarious to not be disrupted by refusal, judgment, and misunderstanding

There were six pairs of eyes on him immediately as soon as Lambert stepped forward from the line of the trees. He wasted a few precious seconds realizing his first mistake. A wolf, alone and armed, walking right through the Cat's camp was certainly asking for trouble. The look they gave him had the sole intent of making him feel uncomfortable and unwanted and it worked perfectly. Second mistake, his hand inched closer to his sword as a natural reflex, causing the handful of Witchers scattered around him to instantly reach for their own weapons. Lambert remained still, judging that he could probably take down at least three of them before the others attacked him, when a vaguely familiar figure stepped forward. 

He took it as a good sign that no arrows or daggers were flying in his direction, if they wanted him gone, he would be bleeding already.

Karadin muttered something along the lines of 'it's fine, I know this one,' and it was enough for his brothers to relax a little. Lambert attempted to stay calm while the other Cat approached him, there was something in his steps that made him look as if he was about to jump him. He didn't like it one bit being here, and as much as he tried to ignore it, hostility was vibrating in the air and running between the whole group like a current.

"I'm looking for Aiden. Not here to kill anyone." He said quickly. They had met once before, he had seen Aiden at ease talking to him, and so far he was the only one that didn't seem to want to murder him on the spot. Probably he was just a better liar.

"Figured that already. I remember you. He's gone, I'm sorry." His voice had a sharp edge that he tried to mask under practiced neutrality, but it still made him sound like it didn't matter at all to him if the others killed Lambert or not.

"Gone where? I've been...."

"Gone, Wolf. He's dead." 

It seemed empty when he said it as if he spoke those exact words so many times that they lost their true meaning now, he made it sound as if this was just another annoying thing that happened in their life, and they both should know better than to make a big deal out of it or get attached to another, cause people and especially witchers, die all the time. Easy for him to be this composed, he was not the one whose walls were crumbling. 

There was a part of Lambert, the part he refused to listen, that had understood something occurred as soon as he realized Aiden was not in Kaedwen, cause he had no reason to not show up after winter. It was their thing, a sort of ritual they took to perform every season: come spring they would meet again and spend the following days holed up at an inn, barely leaving their bed, completely lost in feeling each other after so long and getting reacquainted with what belonged to them. It took Lambert a day and a half before he started to panic, and after that, his personal version of hell unfurled. 

For two endless weeks, Lambert had spent every single day searching for him, refusing contracts that he couldn't care enough to take, cause the prospect of a job was not sufficient to fill the hole inside him left by Aiden's disappearance. The voices in his head kept alternating between whispering that the Cat just left him cause he had enough of his sorry ass, and screaming that something happened to him and he wasn't doing anything useful about it. 

Two weeks made of empty days and cold nights consumed by doubts and fear, passing through another nameless village, threatening mages, picking fights, moving hell and earth to find him, repeating to himself over and over that Aiden couldn't be dead. All he did had been in vain until now, cause now this stranger was standing there and turning the cold suspicion he desperately tried to silence into the bitter truth. Dead. 

"I was there." Lambert tried to ask for something else, he really tried to sound coherent but all of a sudden he felt so tired. He also missed most of the words spilling from Karadin's mouth, but he'll have plenty of time to visualize in detail Aiden's death, because now that the crushing rage and grief he tried to keep at bay had washed over him like the waves of the ocean he could barely restrain himself. He felt as if someone was picking at the stitches that held him together and pulling so harshly that his seams were all coming apart at once. Dead. 

"You can have this." A gloved hand pressed something into his palm, the sound of the leather squeaking in the motion bursting through the fog that settled around his head, and he felt the shape under his fingers. Aiden's medallion. He should pay more attention to the twisting in his guts suggesting that there was something very wrong, like an odd scent of lies in the air, but he didn't, he couldn't. Two Witchers on a contract, one is dead and the other escapes without a single scratch on him, he should figure out that there must be more about it that Karadin was not telling him, yet he ignored that intuition. Third mistake of the day. 

His mind was miles away, and his body was craving to put as much distance as possible between himself and this place, his heart beating too fast since the word 'dead' had been said out loud. Karadin must sense it, cause he didn't waste time in sending him away. "Go, it is not wise of you to stay. And Wolf, I'm really sorry." 

Everything after that was dull and confused, he had a few scattered memories, most of them were nothing more than blinding pain, but he made it as far as the side of the forest before his legs gave out. He felt as if someone sent him stumbling in the darkness, without his potions and his tricks and everything was as gloomy as if all the light had been taken from the world. 

The next thing he remembered he was drunk out of his mind at an inn and morning found him passed out in a dirty alley, with blood on his clothes that he didn't know who it belonged to, and throbbing pain in his hand but his mind was too hazy to focus on anything right now. His first thought is that he has to find Aiden. It took a moment for the events of the previous day to resurface, but when they did, he was on his knees retching and gasping for breath. He can't go looking for Aiden now, cause his best friend is dead.

He replayed the encounter with the other Cat enough times in his mind to put together the scattered pieces, so now he knows how Aiden died, he knows where and he knows he was not alone. And all these things he knows don't help at all though, cause Lambert wasn't there to see it, to stitch him up as he did countless times before, to try and save him. After all, he'd never let a fucking griffin kill his best friend. 

Lambert was miles away in his winter keep, safe and sane like the fucking coward he is, dreaming of spring while he repairs old walls because he doesn't know that spring is not coming this year. And yet, all he can see now is Aiden's death. Every night when he closes his eyes the shadows move in his mind, showing him the horror that he never witnessed as if the universe was performing a sick joke on him. There are usually no words or sounds in his visions, and as dreadful as it is, it's still better than when he can hear Aiden's voice.

About a couple of weeks ago his exhausted brain decided to start playing tricks on him, making him see things he's sure are not real, but it's not always easy to tell the difference between reality and dreams when everything is a nightmare. Minds work in a very funny way when faced with unknown suffering, in a funny and cruel way, that's why in these hallucinations Aiden is nothing like the friend he used to know. 

The thing is, the nightmares are just nightmares. Reality is worse cause he can’t wake up from it. And truth is, Aiden is gone. Lambert has a hard time making sense of the words he hears, so unusual coming from this person he considers his friend, his lover, his. Some bits stick to him, and he remembers those so well it's impossible they are just a product of his subconscious.

"You should have let me come to Kaer Morhen." Lambert's shoulders are hunched, the weight of those words too heavy for him to bear. A few days before going their separate ways Aiden asked him to spend the winter together and he said no. He said he'd stay and that they could find an overly rich lord looking for two extra soldiers, but going to Kaer Morhen was out of the question. He had toyed with the idea of bringing the Cat back home before, the promise of a pleasant and refreshing winter with his lover as tempting as ever. 

Except that there were two other Wolves at home, and even if they didn't send Aiden away running, Vesemir would kick both of them out before they step through the doors. He couldn't face his family knowing they'd think even less of him for showing up with a Cat. That's why he refused, because he's nothing but a coward, and now Aiden carries the same hurt on his face that he had that night. 

"I really wanted you to come, I was..."

"And I really don't believe you." Aiden spats out angrily at him with blood seeping through the blue fabric of his shirt as he wipes a hand over his face, smearing the red lines dripping down his cheek.

" I don't know how to lie to you."

"I'd know it if you were."

"It always seemed pointless to do it anyway. No one ever saw me as you did." Aiden's laugh is as disturbing as his unseeing eyes, and the way it echoes in the dark makes him ache. Aiden wants to hurt him as much as he had been hurt. And the people that know us best always know how to cause more damage.

"That's an awful amount of words for you." The metallic and cold smell of death overpowers everything, there are no more spices or fresh tinges of mint, no sweet undertones of honey, the scent that used to make him think of peace, of happiness and the sea is lost somewhere under the pain. Lambert wants to clutch at that dark shadow that wears the face and the body of his best friend, hold it close to his chest, run a hand through his hair in a desperate attempt to find a trace of that happiness but deep down he knows he can't touch.

"I'm...sorry."

"What for?"

"Being a coward."

"Something suddenly loosened up your tongue, I see....tough luck wolf, it's too late." Lambert feels like choking on the air he was trying to breathe, the harsh truth hits him like a punch. He always thought he had time, time to find the courage to talk to his family, to figure out how to deal with all his sharp edges without lashing out at his lover, to simply be with Aiden and live long enough to defeat the Witcher's curse and outrun their past, and move together somewhere close to the sea where he'd build another boat and finally they could settle down and life would stop being this constant amount of bullshit. But it's too late.

"I love you."

"No you don't. You never did. You don't know how. You cared more about what your ridiculous family thought of you than about me."

"Didn't know how to show it."

"You should have figured that one out before leaving." Realization sends an unfamiliar drop rolling down his cheek and he doesn't bother brushing it away. It wouldn't hurt this bad if it wasn't true.

"You were everything to me! I can't...I'm sorry I...."

"Sorry doesn't bring back the dead. Nothing does." Panic settles in his system and it doesn't leave even when he jerks awake, panting as if he had been running for days. His eyes are wide open, unfocused on the forest around him and this time he dries the wet lines on his cheek, the borders between reality and dreams too weak to not be torn apart by pain.

Sadness smells like dust, with a tinge of something smokey and iron, like burning old wood and pouring water over it. The sharp edge of Aiden's words cut like his swords and all he can do is lay on his blanket trying not to suffocate. 

It doesn't matter that this version of Aiden he keeps conjuring up from the bottomless pit of his guilt continues saying things the real Aiden would never say, cause in the middle of the night, when the weight in his chest becomes unbearably heavy, he's drowning and the dark tide of his thoughts doesn't let him come up for air. It's hard to remember that Aiden was never cruel to him, cause he can barely stop his hands from shaking, and forcing himself to will away the tears is the only thing he can focus on. 

Every time he closes his eyes the ghosts crowd behind them, to remind him that he messed up, that he should have been there, he should have done better. As if it wasn't bad enough that he had lost the only person that ever loved him. Maybe that's when it all went wrong, cause there’s no such thing as love for a Witcher, isn't it? There are monsters, coins, and death. It’s a sad life they live and it’s only a matter of time before a beast, an assassin, a mage or an angry mob send them to their grave. They all live with a damn ticking clock on the back of their neck, tick tick ticking away with the number of days they have left, he always thought he had time, but he was wrong. 

They don't get to retire or move somewhere better, there's no boat by the sea for a Witcher, no lover to hold on to, they don't get a choice. They never did.

He’s talking to a vision that can’t answer him and that’s a sign that he’s gone crazy, he lost his marbles for good this time. And for fuck sake he has to get a grip on himself. Maybe if he had brought Aiden with him to Kaer Morhen he'd still be alive and they'd still be together. 

There's a voice in the dark that seems to whisper 'coward' over and over and the dark glow of the metal on the Cat medallion on his chest seems to shame him and blame him as much as Aiden's words did in his dream. He's sure he can feel that thing moving, crawling on his skin, a silent accusation reflected in those dead eyes, shining in a sinister way. It bothers him, cause that piece of metal is a reminder of when he failed, what he has lost, where he messed up. It seems to accuse him, demand him to fix this, but how do you fix death? What was that wretched thing reproaching him for, expecting him to mend death as if it was just another curse? When he throws the cat-shaped medallion in the fire in a fit of rage cause the damn thing is mocking him he's three heartbeats away from losing his mind and he smells it: sadness. 

The woods are filled with that smell of misery, of dust, and grief, the fire trying to burn the metal like the pain was burning his heart, and he stares entranced. The glimmering of the jewelry in the flames is hypnotic, just like Aiden's eyes were with their shade of green. He'll never gaze into those perfect eyes ever again. He'll never have another spring reunion, he'll never mindlessly trace the line of the scar under Aiden's ribs when he's lost in thought and they're lounging lazily on the bed, and he'll never feel the unique mix of mint, honey and spices that belonged only to Aiden, and no one will ever look at him and make him feel important as he did. 

He blinks the tears away and he’s frantically reaching into the flames to retrieve it, reverently placing it on the rumpled blanket, making sure he didn’t damage it in his stupid fit. He can’t afford to ruin the only thing he has left of the only person that ever accepted him and that realization hurts less than his burnt fingertips. There’s nothing left but this necklace. And all his memories.

After that, he's unable to put the cat-shaped medallion back on so it lives in his pocket until he finds enough strength to leave it behind or wear it around his neck again, whatever comes first. That necklace is so heavy it seems to burn a hole in his flesh, and for an irrational second he finds it fitting: Aiden was always getting under his skin, maybe that’s where it should be. Safe, but he’ll never be safe again, the dead are not safe. 

He tries to shake his thoughts out of his mind while he walks toward the closest village he can find outside of Redania, cause he's almost out of coins, and the perspective of getting drunk and blissfully passing out without dreams for a couple of hours it's too tempting to ignore. With the last of his money, he gets a drink and a room, and after setting his stuff down he sits in a corner of the inn that is slowly filling up. Lambert tries to tune out all the noise of the other patrons, he's not in the mood for petty chats. 

He's been sitting there for no more than a couple of hours when a slightly drunk guard tells his companions that he's glad he doesn't have a night shift. Last month the black beast devoured three of his mates again, one is still missing. Lambert spares a glance at the little patch of sky he can see from his spot and stands up, making his way to the guard's table. Maybe killing something would keep him distracted.

"This black beast, it shows up once a month?" The guard looks at his companions utterly frozen in front of him and doesn't bother turning around.

"And how could you possibly know that?"

"Sir, he's a Witcher, sir, we've seen the lot of them here before. Bad luck to have them around. Terrible bad luck." Lambert doesn't bother with this pale man that looks too close to fainting, he keeps his eyes on who he assumes he's the captain of the guards that finally decided to turn around, a curious look in his eyes.

"A Witcher, uh? Aye, once a month, for the past three months. I lost twelve good men already."

"And how much will you pay for it?"

"You think you can kill something that took twelve soldiers?" Lambert is quickly losing his patience, these idiots are not helping his sour mood.

"It's a werewolf, and I've killed the likes before. How much?" One of the pale kids starts mumbling again, afraid to look at the Witcher and afraid to look away from him.

"My old nan always said it, someone dies when there's a Witcher around."

"Did your nan know how to kill a werewolf? Do you? No, so how about you close your fucking mouth!"

"300 hundred crowns is all I can give you." The captain interrupts. That's good enough for him.

Lambert goes back to his room without another word, preparing for the hunt. He tucks his medallion under his shirt and places the cat-shaped one on the bed. He feels the dark eyes on it following him everywhere, just like the Cat used to do when they were together. He loved it, the feeling of someone watching him not with suspicion, fear, or hate, but kindness and understanding. It was an unfamiliar sensation at first, no one ever looked at him that way. No one ever will. 

Now he doesn’t want these metal orbs, he wants green eyes that are alive, that stare at him and care, that challenge and mock him, that love him, fight him, accept him. 

He tries leaving it hidden between the clothes in his pack and it makes it as far as the front door before he's rushing back up to stuff the damn thing in his pocket and head out to hunt this werewolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading this <3 Hope you enjoyed xo


	3. Replaying Fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lambert is jealous.  
> Aiden steals his shirt.  
> Porn, with a bit of feelings and angst, but mostly porn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I thought that it was a brilliant idea to add a smut chapter. Why? Because! I don't know, I've never written smut in my life and it clearly shows. Hope it's not too bad.

"There you go, 300 crowns."

The captain doesn’t leave him waiting too long, thank fuck for that. The werewolf proved almost too easy to kill and Lambert is eager to go back to the inn and wash away every thought of his dead lover with ridiculous amounts of alcohol. Spending the rest of his day drunk out of his mind sounds like a great plan, not one that Aiden would approve of, but he’s not here to convince him otherwise.

"I’ll find my way out." Something moves out of the corner of his eyes, and his senses immediately pick up the weird rustling of leaves, preparing himself in case of unexpected danger. A black and orange cat jumps out of the bushes, the small beast is probably chasing something or doing whatever cat business cats usually do, but Lambert could swear he knows those green eyes darting around, he’s seen them before millions of times. The animal is gone in a heartbeat and he shakes his head. If he could, he’d kick his own ass, cause he needs to stop thinking about Aiden, it’s clearly muddling with his head.

"…still missing." He stopped paying attention to the captain’s words a long time ago, he had no sympathy left in himself to share with the man. Lambert is only good at dealing with physical pain: the pain of the beatings his father used to give him, the pain of the trials, the pain of a monster tearing at his flesh, he learned to face it cause he knew that it would go away eventually. It was just a matter of time, broken bones and split lips mend, claw marks and cuts fade rather quickly being a Witcher and simply leave one more scar. Other things, he’s not good at coping with them, especially emotions, cause he’s not even supposed to have them. They don’t go away like bruised ribs.

"Not much I can do about that."  
"But you’ve seen something? We hoped he managed to escape but…we didn’t…Is he…dead?" The missing soldier, Lambert remembers now. The werewolf took twelve men but only eleven bodies were found.  
"I saw something alright. Did he have a family?" He sees the old man’s eyes widen at the thought, he sees the flicker of hope and he hates to kill it.  
"A wife."  
"You don’t want his wife to see what I saw, trust me on that."  
Lambert leaves without another word.

The sole fact that a cat with green eyes is messing up with his head should be alarming. There were thousands of cats with green eyes all around the Continent, so why was he making such a big deal out of it? It’s not like he’d never seen one before. There must be something very wrong with him. Though in a way, a Cat with green eyes messed up with more than just his head already, and that’s what got him in this whole situation he’s not very good at handling. He should be focusing on finding his next job, not on the local wildlife. The only thing he’s good at is killing things, and this is what he has to keep doing. He isn’t even that great at eliminating monsters actually, his brothers are much better, but that’s all he knows how to do. 

Maybe he should look for them, track Eskel somewhere and explain what happened, explain that everything went to hell and now there are days when nothing makes sense anymore, he can’t even seem to care enough to find another contract, another village, another monster. He’s not going to tell him that he saw a cat with Aiden’s eyes and there’s not enough to drink in this tavern to chase away the thought, cause patient as he may be, Eskel is not going to put up with crazy.

Lambert wishes more than anything that he could see Aiden again, the real one, not the ghost he sees in his dreams, or just lay entangled in bed without any words being spoken aloud, their hands, their lips, their touches already said everything that needed to be told. Words have a habit of lingering just below his line of reach, they were there, but just a little too far for him to grasp at them and put them into thoughts he could say out loud. There were so many words between Aiden and him, words unspoken and words he’d like to take back, and why the fuck words are so complicated anyway?

Looking for his brothers is a terrible idea, now that he thinks about it. He just needs to go somewhere with enough monsters for him to stop moving around all the time, cause he can’t travel on the bad days. He can barely leave the room, on bad days. That’s why Lambert comes up with a plan: he’ll go to the only place where he doesn’t have to find work, cause work will find him anyway. Toussaint, were people are filthy rich and always willing to pay a little extra to prove just how wealthy they are. He's been there before, he spent the entire winter there with Aiden after the incident with a pair of wyverns. That is, as soon as he feels like existing again, because today the shadows crowding the corners of his vision don’t leave him alone and there are green eyes haunting him every time he blinks.

***

"Lambert?" He lingers on the doorstep for a moment before entering and closing the door behind his back. The light of the moon is enough for him to make out Aiden’s form slowly sitting up on the bed, rumpled sheets pooling at his waist, and a faint trace of lavender soap invades the air.

"Why, were you waiting for someone else?" Lambert is still holding an empty cup he brought up from the ballroom he just managed to leave. The only good part of the night was the wine. 

Empty social meetings and royal occasions are just an excuse for nameless Lords and Ladies to brag about the huge pile of bullshit they were sitting on. It bored him to death. And it all proved rather useless cause he didn’t get much information about the striga that was supposedly haunting the castle. Lord Launfal kept passing him and Aiden around, showing them off like hunting trophies for the court to gawk at and bragging about having two Witchers at his services. What a fucking idiot, he hates royals with all of himself.

Of course, Aiden didn't seem to mind. He had princes and ladies eyeing him as if he was an expensive cake they couldn’t wait to get their dirty fingers on, and Lambert was upset. He didn’t like people looking at his lover as if they were about to eat him. The worst part was that he saw the Cat talking to all those rich idiots, playing along as if he wanted nothing more than meeting another Lady Nobody from Nowhere, as if he was enjoying all the attention. Lambert was already fuming after the first part of the evening was over, and somehow it all seemed to go downhill when people started to discretely slip Aiden invitations for more.

Everybody hated and despised Witchers, in all corners of the Continent they were treated no better than the beasts they were hired to kill, chased out of villages and stoned, with one single exception. In Toussaint, they were some kind of luxury to exhibit, like exotic animals from distant lands, nothing more than the latest attraction among the richest assholes of the province. And Aiden, beautiful green-eyed Aiden, apparently was a favourite. 

Lambert kept hearing people offering his lover to finish the night in a more interesting manner, and it made his blood boil. He wanted to finish their night in a way more interesting manner, as in slitting some throats or throwing a bastard, or six, out of the window. Aiden pretended to accept the offers with a kind word, fully aware of his position here and what was required of him, saying he was still bound to his job but perhaps he could find time later. Maybe he wasn’t pretending, that’s what the voice in Lambert’s head keeps saying. Maybe he’ll take one of those invites. Maybe that’s why he’s so surprised to see Lambert now.

"Possibly. I was terribly bored here by myself"

Next thing Aiden knows, something is flying in his direction and he thanks his Witcher senses or the mug would have hit him fair and square. He ducks out of the way cursing, the loose black shirt covering him slips from his shoulder and his hair is a little tousled. When he speaks again his voice sounds on the good side of rough.

"What the fuck pup? I was just kidding!" He stares at the cup on the floor more than a little surprised, things thrown at him were not part of his plan for the rest of the night.

"Didn’t sound like it to me."

Aiden smiles, the bastard has the courage to look smug and stare at him while Lambert busies himself with the buckles of his armor. He can tell by the way his Wolf was moving that something made him angry, and considering the night they had, the list of things that could have caused it was unsurprisingly long.

"Are you, by any chance, jealous, my dear wolf?"  
"What? No! Of course not! Do whatever and whoever the fuck you want." He tries to sound as careless and uninterested as possible, as if the idea of Aiden with someone else doesn’t disturb him at all. He fails miserably.

Lambert finishes removing all his gear, leaving it in a pile on the floor and trying his best to ignore Aiden’s pleased expression. He moves towards the screen door hiding the bathroom to retrieve a damp rag, but Aiden is up in a second, facing him.  
"You’re jealous."

"And you’re still here? Thought you were waiting for someone, weren’t you? Don’t keep them waiting." He casually points at the door behind them. Of course he’s jealous, he is jealous of everyone that ever caught Aiden’s attention, constantly afraid of not being enough for the other man, but he isn’t about to suddenly admit he doesn’t know how to deal with his emotions, cause he doesn’t have emotions. He doesn’t. The Witcher, heartless, cold, the song didn’t say the Witcher a soft sappy guy, it doesn’t even rhyme.

"You’re kicking me out?" Aiden raises an eyebrow at him, casually leaning against the stone wall of the bathroom.

"Oh please, I’m sure there’s more than one rich Lord or Lady in this house that would welcome you in a soft bed and with spread legs." Lambert moves past the Cat, fumbling with his clothes as if he doesn’t know what to do with his hands before stripping down to his trousers. He picks up a washcloth from the side of the bathtub, mindlessly scrubbing down his arms and chest, frowning at the water in front of him as if it held the solutions to all his problems. Aiden’s scent follows him around the room, and he’s so used to it that it’s always weird for him to be in a room that doesn’t smell like Aiden when they go their separate ways for a couple of days.

"Sorry, when did I turn into a high-class whore in this ridiculous story of yours? All this because you refuse to admit you’re jealous?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just…leave me alone, I’m sure someone will keep you busy." Aiden knows that none of them is after a fight, they're just too strung high after their evening. And he also knows that confronting Lambert is simply not working. He softens his voice and steals the washcloth from his hands, dipping it in the warm water again and beginning to gently swipe it across tense shoulder blades.

"Do you think that if I had my eyes on someone I’d bring them to our room? The very same room where I know you will come back? I decide to cheat on you and I do it in our bed, wearing your shirt? That’s not very smart. Also, you were with me the entire night, who do you think I was waiting for?" Lambert doesn’t move, taken aback by Aiden’s unexpected gesture. He knows the touch of the warm palm on his side, he knows the motion of the hand that brings the rug down his back, and he’s grateful for the familiarity of it. He can see past his anger and get lost in the sensation. It calms him down enough to realize just how stupid he is. Aiden is being nice to him, even after he practically called him a whore. Damn his stupid big mouth. 

"Plenty of options. I heard about all the invites you got." He mumbles under his breath, all the demanding voices of the evening still echoing in his ears. 

Aiden lets the washcloth fall back into the water, placing a small kiss just under the nape of his neck as he always does every time they're cleaning up after a contract, it's his way to tell him it's all done, they can relax now that it's over. It’s one of the little things Aiden does to keep him grounded, like leaving something of his in plain sight in the rooms they shared, so if Lambert woke up alone he would always know that he hadn’t left for good, he was just at the blacksmith or getting them breakfast and he was coming back soon, or the fingers ghosting at the inside of Lambert’s wrist when he was getting mad and he wanted to be on his own, so Aiden remained just close enough to trail his fingers on the back of his clenched fists or his wrists from time to time. 

Small things, habits picked up in many days and nights together, learning each other quirks without ever pointing them out, without ever judging but simply accepting them and learning what to do with them, cause they know fully well that sometimes fighting and fucking until they were out of energy was not enough, cause they were on edge and everything threatened to set their nerves off, so their best chance was trying to smooth out the razor-sharp corners of their frustration with soft touches and whispered words in the quiet.

"I refused all of them. You were there every single time I turned them down."

"Then why the fuck did you sound so surprised when I walked in?" Aiden laughs at his sudden outburst, moving his arms around Lambert’s waist and pressing himself against his back.

"Cause I was sleeping you stupid pup! You said you wanted to stay a while longer but I was this close to snap someone’s neck. I had to go."

"Oh. So you were not….waiting for someone else?" Lambert feels his lover placing another soft kiss at the back of his neck before resting his chin on his shoulder. He tentatively lays one of his hands on Aiden’s arm still around his waist, fingering the black fabric there as if he wasn’t sure he was still allowed to touch him after the things he said.

"You’re so stupid, you’re lucky I love you. I couldn’t bear being shown off among those bastards as if I was for sale, that’s why I came back here. I cleaned up and I wanted to wait for you to return but I must have fallen asleep."

"You love me?" Aiden hears him whispering, his voice so low he can only make it out because of his sharpened senses. He lays another kiss on his shoulder, tracking an errant drop of water with his lips.

"Very much. Now tell me why were you so angry?"

"I thought…nevermind, it’s stupid." Lambert sighs loudly and moves away from his embrace, suddenly feeling even more self-conscious than usual. Aiden was not cheating, of course, why did he even say that? This was him being an asshole as always, taking out his anger on the first person who tries to put up with him.

"No, come on, tell me. What did you think was going on here?" Lambert sits heavily on the edge of the bed, eyes trained on the green carpet covering a good part of the floor. He wants to make things right, but words are dirty treacherous things slipping out of his reach, and he doesn’t know how to explain why there’s always a nasty voice in his head whispering cruel things. 

"I see you. And I see people around you. They look at you. Want you. And you’re…you, you flirt with them. They always reek of lust and desire, I could practically catch pretty maids getting wet between their legs when you talked to them. You could be spending the night with a fucking Princess or a Lord, but you’re here in the servants’ wing for no good reason." He lets out the breath he didn’t realize he held, it always seems to require him a huge effort to say out loud his thoughts. Cats were supposed to be unbalanced and all that but fuck balance, sad lot of good balance and control did to him. 

"Lambert, look at me." His vision is fully occupied by Aiden’s form standing directly in front of him, he didn’t realize he moved but now an extended hand reaches out to his chin, thumb tracing the dark stubble there and he can’t avoid his green eyes. Aiden is always moving with feline grace, when he’s fighting, fucking, walking through a crowded room, or killing a beast, smooth as if everything he does is the easiest thing in the world. When he places a hand on the side of his face, Lambert nuzzles into the touch, feeling all his rage melting away in the palm of that hand.

"I am exactly where I choose to be. With you. I could never choose anything in life since I was brought to Stygga, and I don’t remember anything before it, but this thing between you and me, I chose it. I want this." Aiden slowly straddles him, his knees resting on the mattress below them and Lambert can’t resist putting his hands around his waist, hitching the shirt up a little, yearning for the warm skin underneath, for a touch to prove that this perfect man above him is areally here.

Lambert feels so stupid for even thinking those ridiculous words he said out loud. He never knows what to say cause he never had to try to fix things with someone, people were not this patient with him, they just walked out of his life when it all got too hard to handle. But Aiden is here, and all he can do is look at him and kiss him eagerly, the soft lips opening to leave him full access to his lover’s mouth. He wants to pour all these nameless things he feels in their kiss, seeking forgiveness on the tip of Aiden’s tongue moving against his own. 

"’m sorry." He tries to say when they break apart, leaning his forehead on Aiden’s. Aiden kisses him again, letting his hands roam free on the exposed planes of Lambert’s back, sending shivers down his lover’s spine and silencing his excuses in a languid kiss. Lambert trails his hands down to Aiden’s hips, too much fabric getting in the way of his exploration.

"Are you really…wearing my shirt?"  
"It smells like you, and I felt bad after being ogled like I was dessert by a bunch of old royal assholes." Lambert is suddenly overwhelmed by the need to touch, to feel his skin under his palms, and have him closer. 

"I…Shit, I thought you…you enjoyed the…attention." 

"Why would I like a crowd of corrupted nobles staring at me? I put up with it cause this contract is good money, not because I wanted to be noticed."

"Fuck, Aiden, I’m… I hate them even more now." He feels bad for even thinking Aiden enjoyed the evening, he should know better. 

"Me too Wolf, trust me. Why did you stay if you despised it so much though? " Aiden traces the scar on the right side of his face, fingers gently brushing on his forehead down to his cheek, exploring the different textures. It’s his favourite one. Lambert didn’t even want Aiden to touch it at first when they began to get more intimate, finding the ugly mark particularly horrible to look at, but the Cat was set to show the other man he didn’t mind one bit, and he clearly succeeded in his mission.

"Tried to get more details on the striga. I caught three servants gossiping about how Lady Launfal was willing to do anything to make sure the castle stayed in her family even after her death."

"Ugh, they can’t let go of their stupid stuff even when they’re rotting away." The contempt in Aiden’s voice is crystal clear, and he chases it away kissing Lambert again, taking his time in exploring his mouth, nipping at the full bottom lip before suckling the sting away. Aiden slips his tongue between parted lips, licking into the inviting mouth, his lover’s beard tickling his skin as he deepened the kiss. It’s never enough for Lambert, he’s addicted to this body, to this taste, he could hold him forever and he’d still want more. He feels Aiden moaning in the kiss, desire pooling inside him at the sweet sounds escaping his mouth.

"Missed you." Aiden says while Lambert outlines with his thumb the edge of the pink scar under Aiden’s ribs, this one is special cause it was the first he patched up himself, stitching his best friend in a dark cave by the fire, terrified to lose him. 

"I should have come back sooner, it was a huge waste of time anyway." Lambert stares at the wet, shiny lips he just tasted and slips his hands lower, cupping his lover’s ass and squeezing it roughly, drawing him impossibly closer. Aiden starts to slowly roll his hips, eliciting a barely muffled groan from Lambert and smirking like the cat that got the fucking cream when he feels Lambert’s cock twitch beneath him.

"Oh you’re such a good boy, aren’t you pup? But work hours are over, you’re mine now." Aiden purrs in his ear before moving lower to place small kisses on his throat, nibbling on his collarbone and running his fingers over Lambert’s chest, nails catching on his nipples and stopping his journey to squeeze one hardening nub.

"You could have…fuck yes, that’s nice…you could have helped." Aiden bites a little too harshly on the soft spot where neck and shoulder meet. He loves the way Lambert grips at him harder, fingertips digging into the supple flesh of his ass, keeping him right where he wants him.

"I’m helping! I was half-naked in your room, wearing your shirt, all warm and ready for you, not my fault you had better things to do than come to bed with me." Aiden licks a few times over the reddening spot at the base of his lover’s throat, the taste of his skin invading his mouth.

"Looks better on you."

Aiden hides his grin in Lambert’s neck as he deliberately starts to move his hips again, slowly rocking back and forward to create delicious friction between their clothed erections and drawing sharp groans from both of them. Aiden presses down on his shoulders, pushing Lambert to lay flat on the bed and working his trousers open before slipping a hand inside to slowly palm his cock, staring at his Wolf with hungry eyes, burning with lust.

"I want you. I’ve been wanting you the whole night. Jealous looks so fucking hot on you. You thought I wanted a prince, but I kept dreaming of fucking with the scary, mean Witcher in every dark corner." The way Lambert shamelessly moans into his touch is sinful, and it’s one of the best sounds Aiden ever heard.

"Oh fuck, Aiden…" He leans on his Wolf just enough to whisper against his lips, sharing the same breath for a heartbeat. "Yes love, that’s the plan."

Those inviting lips are gone just like that, and Lambert almost whines at the loss. Aiden pulls down his smallclothes, effectively shoving them out of the way before finally moving back to sit on his thighs, stroking his cock again. He loves feeling Lambert getting hard under his attention, feeling his erection growing when he licks his nipples or bites down on the sweet spot on his neck that makes his lover shiver. He begins to trace his fingers over all those places that make Lambert moan, teasing the head of his length with a thumb before wrapping his hand around it, enjoying the sounds he can get out of him.

"Need you naked right now," Lambert groans while he moves to work the buttons on Aiden’s shirt, his shirt, and he can’t get the offending material off of his shoulders soon enough. 

Aiden laughs while standing up to quickly remove the last of his clothes. He gets a small vial of oil from the bedside table before wrapping his legs around Lambert’s hips again. No matter how many times they’ve been here, the first skin on skin touch always feels like fire to Aiden, burning hot in his groin and making him crave more. Lambert digs his fingers into the dimples on Aiden’s back, pushing their hips together as his lover begins to move in the most taunting rhythm. Sparks of pleasure flood his brain when he feels Aiden’s cock rubbing against his own, smooth and velvety, the slow movements are enough to drive him crazy with need.

"Need you….need you now." Lambert knows this is not going to be one of the nights when they’ll take their time, teasing each other over and over until they’re both losing control, he can sense the same urgency he feels deep inside him in Aiden’s voice.

Aiden sits up a little to get the vial of oil he left well in his grasp and pours it on his fingertips, eyes fixed on his lover beneath him as he reaches behind himself. Lambert watches entranced as Aiden starts to slowly stretch himself open, the sweet scent of the oil mixing with their arousal.

"You look so fucking hot Aiden." He moves his hands to grip Aiden’s spread thighs, feeling the muscles quivering under the grasp of his fingers, harsh enough to leave little red dots scattered on the skin. Lambert nudges Aiden back a little, fingers moving on the inside of his thigh, stopping just to thumb at the slit on his lover’s wet cock, losing himself in the keening sound that leaves Aiden’s lips.

"So damn beautiful, can’t believe you’re all mine." He shifts enough to sit up and start mouthing Aiden’s neck, tasting his skin and causing him to moan out loud.

"Need you…oh fuck, Lambert, need you inside…" Lambert moves his hand back to grip the other’s hips, steadying him as he kisses and bites his throat, and is so hard to resist the need to claim what’s his.

"Let me. I want to feel you." Aiden shivers at his words, sneaking his free arm around Lambert’s neck. Lambert brushes his hand on his spine in a soft caress, feeling the sweat already running down his back. He reaches the place where his lover is spreading himself open, two fingers already pushing inside his hole. Aiden slowly removes his hand, a small cry leaves his parted lips when he feels his lover teasing his entrance and when Lambert starts to press one finger in there it’s enough to make him writhe in his lap.

"Want you…Inside me…" He rests his head on Lambert’s shoulder, panting against the side of his neck as he feels a second finger entering him with no resistance. Aiden starts to roll his hips again, trying to grind their cocks together every time he nudges his hips forward, feeling the fingers inside him slip in even deeper.

"I am inside you." Lambert easily works his fingers in and out, searching for the bundle of nerves that will make Aiden scream and savoring the sight of his lover coming apart before his eyes when he finds it. Aiden moans in the most sinful way when he pushes a third finger in, rocking forward a little faster, enough for their erections trapped between their bodies to rub against the other just right.

"I’m…I’ll come if you keep it up." Lambert feels the body in his arms shaking and quivering, and knowing he’s the one that put him in that state always gets to his head.

"That’s the idea. You make the most beautiful sound. I don't know why you don't let me do this more often, I just want to make you come over and over again so I can hear it." He knows how to play with his lover’s body, twisting his fingers just right to stroke his sweet spot, causing Aiden to cry out loud.

"Fucking….fuck, don’t say that, I’m so close already." Aiden presses their bodies together, and Lambert can’t help but wrap his hand around both their erections, pumping them with a sudden urgency. 

"I know, I can feel it." Lambert smirks at him, brushing his fingers against the tip of their cocks, spreading the wetness already gathering there.

"Not like this…I want to come with your cock deep inside me, I want to feel you everywhere."

"Gods, that mouth of yours." Lambert lets his fingers slip free from his lover’s body, and he doesn’t miss how Aiden whines at the loss. He tries to catch the green eyes he loves so much, hesitating for a brief second before asking "You sure?"

Aiden raises his head and looks dead serious while he shifts his hips enough to settle himself on his lover’s thighs, feeling the hard cock twitching under him.

"You have to fuck me right now or I swear I’ll find someone who will." Lambert grabs his ass possessively, squeezing hard enough to bruise and meeting Aiden’s lips in a burning kiss. "Like Hell you will!"

Aiden grins before taking his cock in his hand and guiding it inside himself, slowly sinking down as they both hiss in pleasure. For a moment Aiden remains still, very much enjoying the feeling of Lambert so deep and hot inside his body. Lambert tries as best as he can to stay still and let his lover adjust, losing himself in the vision before him.

"Aiden… Can you…Fuck, tell me you’re good." Right now, stretched around him, with his eyes closed, hands braced on his chest and his tongue occasionally sneaking out to wet his lips, right now Aiden looks obscenely divine. He looks like everything Lambert ever wanted.

"My wolf, all mine…you feel so fucking good inside me." Aiden moans in his ear before settling a lazy pace, lifting himself up and slowly sinking back onto Lambert’s cock.

"Tell me" Lambert’s voice is too rough and needy, and he can feel his control slipping away when Aiden sinuously arches his back, baring his throat for him to sink his teeth into the tender flesh.

"Feel so full, so deep inside me…I’ve been wanting you all night, wanted to ride you like this for so long…Oh fuck, you’re gonna mark me? Cause I want you to." Lambert growls, hiding his face in the slope of Aiden’s shoulder, biting down at the base of his neck, grateful for the fact that he doesn’t have to hold back anymore, and Aiden tangles his hand in his hair to keep him close, crying out at the feeling of being claimed.

"Oh fuck, fuck, you feel so hot inside me." Aiden starts working his hips faster as Lambert meets him halfway, thrusting up in the welcoming heat and feeling the coils of his pleasure tightening inside him.

Lambert licks the red mark decorating Aiden’s throat, whispering "Mine." against the heated flesh. He knows it won’t last, they both heal quickly, but he knows it will be there in the morning.

"Yours." Lambert moves his hands to grip Aiden’s hips, holding him on his lap as he fucks into him, need burning inside him like flames.

"Godsdamn Aiden! " A beautiful string of moans leave his lover’s lips, Aiden was always loud, but right now he’s sure every other person in this wing is probably hearing them.

"Oh, oh fuck, harder, please, just….fuck, you feel so good! I can take it, you know I can…" Lambert knows he’s not going to last long this time, Witcher’s mutagens and all be damned, how can he resist with Aiden’s tight ass around him, fully fucking himself on his cock.

"You’re so tight, do you know how good you feel around me?" Lambert feels how Aiden’s whole body tenses up in his arms and adjusts his angle to hit the right spot again and again, as he savors the way his lover clenches tighter around him, pleasure coursing through their bodies and bringing both of them closer to the edge.

"Show me…I need to feel you coming inside me, show me how good…" Lambert watches Aiden quickly unraveling, relishing the loud moans and cries that keep falling from his lips every time he takes his whole length inside, tremors shaking the strong figure on top of his own.

"Fuck, keep moving like that and I will. Can you come on my cock like this?" Lambert takes his lips in a bruising kiss, craving to feel his taste again before moving lower to lick at his neck, and Aiden’s words go straight to his cock.

"Yes, yes, Gods yes, keep…keeping fucking me like this, fuck this is perfect…" Aiden’s fingers dig into his lover’s back, nails leaving moon-shaped marks just above Lambert’s shoulder blades as his hips desperately rock down to meet the hard thrusts claiming his body.

"Mine, only mine, my Aiden, fuck, come for me, I wanna see you." Aiden’s whole body is tensing and twitching as a loud cry leaves his parted lips, finally letting go, spilling his release between their bodies in pearly white lines pooling on Lambert’s stomach. It takes Lambert only a few more thrusts into his hot clenching hole before his orgasm washes over him, filling his lover’s body and gasping against the reddened skin of Aiden’s neck.

He falls back on the bed, Aiden slumped forward on his chest with a silly smile on his face, and laying there contented is all they can do for now. It’s a while before they can string thoughts, let alone words, together, both still coming down from their height.

"I love your ass too much to let you do this more often, but I’ll let you fuck me again if you admit that you were jealous." Aiden says it in the most innocent voice ever, and it shouldn’t be possible coming from someone that looks so thoroughly fucked. Lambert just growls at him, his brain still refusing to work properly.

"Oh you little shit, can’t you just drop it?" Aiden curls up next to him, fingers drawing imaginary patterns connecting the scars on his chest.

"Careful love, I was under the impression you liked this ass." Aiden pretends to miss the words his Wolf just said, only because he knows he can and he will get away with it.

"What was that, pup? Was somebody jealous?" Aiden smiles before scratching his nails over the sensitive skin on the inside of Lambert’s thigh.

"Fine, fine, I was jealous, happy now kitten?"

"Depends. Are you up for another round?" Lambert rolls them over, giving a silent thank for the only one blessing brought by the mutagens in their blood.

"With you, always. I mean, have you seen you?" Aiden spreads his legs open invitingly before arching under him.

"Then I’m very happy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading this <3 Hope you enjoyed xo


	4. I'm on the Mend, but I Lost a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toussaint, an Alp, a nosy guard, and a black cat.   
> And my personal take on why Aiden stopped killing people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shamelessly stole the names here included from a book I was reading cause I was out of ideas, it's called The Binding and it's amazing!

Alps were a bit of a pain in the ass to kill, just like every other vampire. Tricky, loud, and cunning things they were, not incredibly dangerous but granted to give you a good rattle and one hell of a headache. Years ago, Lambert shared his first kiss with Aiden after they cleaned a nest and now he thinks about it every time he's disposing of one. It's weird, cause who would think of sharing a first kiss in front of a pile of dead vampires, but it was one of his best memories.

Then again, the first time he told Aiden he loved him, the Cat was almost dead in a grimy cave, covered in blood, and Lambert was panicking cause the gash under his ribs was bad enough that no potion in the world would buy him the time to find a healer.

Toussaint didn't disappoint him: three days after arriving in Beauclair and he was already waiting for 200 easy crowns. The prospect of payment should be enough to lighten his mood, but his mind is elsewhere, namely on the black cat running around the garden he saw last night before entering the crypt where the Alp was praying on ladies and princesses. Another cat, another pair of stunning green eyes, another painful twist in his heart. He even asked the guard currently stationed outside about it and the idiot said there were no cats on the property, something about ruining the lawns or whatever, as if Lambert didn't see the animal with his own eyes.

It was the second beast with disturbingly familiar green eyes that he saw, and it's two cats more than what he had seen in months. Lambert wasn't even sure if he was hallucinating or if the boy was making fun of him when he said there were no cats. Maybe both. Is this what happens to people that go mad, they start seeing things, they hear voices, and next they're muttering nonsense at night wandering deserted streets? 

Is this what is going to happen to him, he'll start seeing cats with green eyes everywhere and people will pity him? He was already hearing voices in his dreams, this was just one step further toward insanity, and the path to get there looked suspiciously short.

Lambert picks himself and his headache up from the tomb and walks to the marble arch covering the entrance of the crypt, where an over-enthusiastic guard is waiting for him, hopefully with his money.

"So, is the beast dead? You must have been very brave!" Lambert would laugh if his bones weren't aching so much. He has seen that look: he's too young to know that what witchers do has nothing to do with bravery. Even the night before with all his questions he made the job sound fascinating and charming, probably someone didn't explain to him the difference between Witchers and knights in shining armor. He was hoping to see a hero but all he got was a dusty, cranky and hallucinating witcher with the beginning of a headache throbbing in his skull. Not exactly the heroic stuff fairytales are made of. 

Lambert ignores the voice and grits his teeth at the sudden burst of light and sound that overwhelms him as soon as he steps onto the paved path that leads to the house. Being subjected to the creature's horrible shrieks and screeches for half of the night has his nerves fried and now everything is too loud and too close even if it's barely past dawn. He wants to hear nothing but blessed silence for the entire day or he's going to seriously hurt someone.

"I'm curious, have you been here before?" Lambert starts moving in the general direction of the mansion chasing the promise of quiet and the soldier scrambles after him. He's still staring expectantly, as if he thinks he's owed something.

It annoys him, that for one reason or the other people are gawking all the fucking time. He learned to disregard it with experience but he never fully discovered how to ignore the stares. His brothers get them too, and he knows for a fact that it often bothers Eskel, but for reasons unknown to him, Geralt never seems to give a fuck. He's slightly jealous of that talent. He'll see them next winter if he's not completely out of his mind by then.

When they finally leave behind the crypt where he just killed the Alp, Lambert has regained enough presence of mind to check the garden again, hoping to catch a glimpse of the black cat he saw earlier but it's like the feline has disappeared from the face of the earth. 

The luxurious garden that surrounds the old house is perfectly still, the gardeners are not at work yet, the only note is the faint buzzing of birds. He tries to catch any sound or scent resembling the one he felt before but it's like the cat was never here. Probably he wasn't. What if there was no cat at all and his mind was just playing more tricks on him? He's not sure Witchers can go insane, he can't recall any lore on mad witchers, but maybe he'll be the first one, just his usual luck. He tunes out the noises around him, trying to detect a trail of the animal when the voice of the guard breaks his concentration again: "You have been here before, haven't you?"

Regular people seemed to have a hard time shutting up, he should know this after an entire winter with Geralt's bard, the Gods know he never kept quiet for more than 10 minutes unless he was sleeping. Maybe he even talked in his sleep, go figure. It's not like he asked Geralt. 

"I've been everywhere. Listen, I'll take what I'm owed and leave. Got things to do." Lambert answers this time just to make him shut up. No one needs to know that the things he has to do include tracking down a disappearing black cat. That is if there was one at all.

"Oh, of course, you must be very busy. Here it is, though I think my Lord wanted to see you tonight, throw a feast for the Court, but if you insist you can't stay it's better to..."  
"I can't." Lambert takes the velvety pouch and stuffs it in his pack, eager to put some distance between himself and the rambling man before him. He knows all about feasts in Beauclair, he suffered through them enough for a couple of lifetimes already. 

He's about to turn away when the guard exclaims: "Wait, I remember! You were working for Lord Launfal with the other Witcher, green eyes, very pretty thing, if I say so myself, you..." He makes a pitiful weak noise as he doubles over himself, words dying upon his lips as blood trickles from them. Lambert is on him in a second and pins him to the nearest wall, he's not thinking about anything except that he wants to hurt him. Before he knows, he's hitting him again and again, driven by some fucked up instinct kicking in cause this idiot is talking about his best friend and he has no right to do so, especially not in that way. He doesn't get away with describing the best person in his life as a pretty thing, not in front of him, not like that.

"Shut your damn mouth, you don't fucking know what you're talking about!" He can hear the faint sound of a bone breaking over the boy crying "Please," and "Stop," and spares a look at the bloody mess he made of his face. He lets go of him as if he's been burned and he sees the guard collapsing to the ground. He fucked up. 

He feels like his mind is swimming and he can't focus on anything but the blood on his hands. He stares at the unconscious form slumped against the wall and takes a step back, streaks of red marking the gray stone. Lambert knows he went too far. His hands moved of their own accord when he realized that man was talking about Aiden. A pretty thing, he said. Lambert can't tell why those words were so painful, but it felt like pouring salt into an open wound. 

Of all people in the fucking Continent he had to run into someone that remembered him, of course, he had to meet a guard that was here the last time he was in Toussaint with Aiden, cause apparently the universe, chaos and the Gods were having a field day of messing with him. Again.

He spares one more glance to the guard just to make sure he's still breathing, collects what he's owed and leaves in haste. When the boy wakes up and tells everyone what happened Lambert knows he won't be spared. He almost killed that stupid boy, not much he can do about it now. He just wanted him to shut up and stop talking about Aiden, the fucker didn't even remember his name. 

He's past the iron gates when he finally manages to stop his hands from shaking. It scares him how dangerously good it felt for a couple of minutes to make the man shut up, it scares him to the point he just wants to forget it happened. For a short time, he felt like he had complete control over something, and that was rare for him. He enjoyed being in charge, knowing that whether that man lived or died was in his hands, it was like playing God and winning. It was like having a choice.

He may have a couple of hours before someone decides to hunt him down, which is plenty of time to find work. Before taking the Alp contract Lambert overheard in a tavern not too far from the market about an archespores problem in the valley where a certain Lord keeps his precious vineyards. With a little bit of luck he can go back to the main square and someone will point him in the general direction of this new Lord's palace. He just needs a few hours, and then he'll have the perfect excuse to stay out of Beauclair for a while.

***

Lambert prefers the nights when sleep eludes him, they're more peaceful than the ones filled with ghosts and blood, or as close to peaceful as he can get. He was never very good at meditating like his brothers, something about how his stupid brain would not shut up long enough for him to fall into a proper state of reverie. Both Eskel and Geralt never had any problem with that, he had seen Geralt kneeling in the same spot without moving until morning, absolutely unbothered by anything that happened around him, as if he was in his own world. 

In a patient attempt to help him, Eskel told him once that meditation works better if you try to recall a state of peace or calm you already experienced and lose yourself in it. Peace and calm was not something Lambert ever experienced, at least not back then. Not before Aiden.

The room he's currently occupying is surprisingly comfortable, he even had a bath, but his brain still refuses to relax. Finding his next contract proved a little more complicated than he expected, he wandered around the narrow streets for a good while before arriving at the indicated house, growing more anxious by the hour, expecting someone to chase him down at any turn of the road. Luckily the man he found outside a heavily guarded black gate was the old farmer in charge of the orchard, and he was as eager as him to go back to the valley. 

Lambert joined him on the trip, but he instantly disliked the place: whoever needed that much security was not just a simple vineyards owner. Thank Gods the old man was not the chatty type, and they reached the old castle in silence just before nightfall. When they arrived the farmer pointed to a small house next to the main castle, told him to find an empty room and disappeared immediately after. Lambert was grateful for the silence.

He washed the blood and the dust out of his clothes but he couldn't wash the feeling of it from his hands, his ears still ringing with the sound of some bone cracking as he hit that stupid man just for talking about Aiden. 

Lambert feels weary and worn but it's not because of the vampire last night. It's not the monsters that tire him: killing is easy, but the rest, traveling, talking, living and functioning in a world where he has no place, it all leaves him drained, that type of bone-aching exhaustion that's beyond physical, it keeps you awake even if you're spent and it gnaws away at your nerves.

He still can't figure out why Aiden would go after (possibly) two griffins all on his own, the Cat was careless and a bit reckless but not completely stupid. He was pretty smart about his work, he had to be, all things considered. Aiden was the one that at the beginning insisted on how they should stick together just because some jobs were easier that way. 

Besides, he was supposed to spend the last week before spring traveling north with the Caravan. There was no deep sympathy between Aiden and most of the other Cats, cause many were not particularly pleased with his decision to stop taking contracts on humans, but traveling together was still assumed to be safer. Lambert tried for days to put the pieces together but the more time he spends thinking about it, the less everything makes sense: Karadin told him he was there when it happened, but he finds it hard to believe he killed the two monsters all on his own. 

Lambert remembers one winter Eskel and Coën went off to fight a pair of griffins in the mountains and they came back three days later, bloody and with a good amount of soon-to-be-scars that needed to be patched up immediately, a broken shoulder (Eskel) and four cracked ribs (Coën). He had seen what griffins can do to experienced Witchers, there was no way a Cat the same age as him disposed of two monsters like that without any serious injuries. He even had time to take the medallion! And if it was not just the two of them, how did Aiden sustain wounds that couldn't be fixed by two or three other witchers for the short time it took to get to a healer? Griffins were only dangerous when they ventured past the mountains and closer to the villages, which meant they were not too far from the possibility of getting help.

His brain keeps churning an explanation, keeps conjuring up different scenarios but nothing he can think of leads to Aiden's death.

Lambert knows Aiden killed people too, but most importantly he knows why he stopped. They both found out very early in their relationship that confessing things in the dark, naked and hidden by the blankets, worked for them. They could say whatever was on their mind and come morning things were still fine between them, they could look at each other's in the eyes without shame, cause things said in the dark were like spirits disappearing with the sun, they couldn't hurt them anymore. The ghosts of their pasts and their fears had been there, and now they were gone, chased away with burning lips and soft touches. It was during one of those nights that Aiden explained why he couldn't kill humans anymore.

They were back at the inn after killing a striga but two innocents died and Lambert knows Aiden blamed himself, he could feel how shaken he was in the way his kisses were almost too harsh and he was tearing away at their clothes. Aiden tastes of something almost-burnt when he's angry, but much later, when Lambert hides his face in the crook of his shoulder, sore in all the right way even if he'll never admit out loud that Aiden fucks him even better when he's like that cause he's less gentle, the taste is gone, and only the honey remains. That's when he can start talking.

The Cat told him that he was fine with being considered a monster by everyone else as long as he didn't feel like that. He was just doing his job and it was not his fault people were too judgemental and prudish to accept that, it's not like he asked for a mage to play with mutagens and mess up his blood. He woke up one day outside of Stygga and he was too young to have any memories of how he arrived there. 

He didn't remember his family, or where he was born, his first memories were of the Cat School, there was nothing before that. He liked to say he had no past, but everyone has it, and they're usually running away from it. And no future too, cause there were not many options for a witcher. Still, not his fault the same people he worked for, the same ones that begged him to get rid of a monster or paid him handsomely for killing a problematic cousin, were also the first ones to throw stones at him or ask a Lord to imprison him cause he was a danger for the town. Not so much of a danger when they needed him for their dirty deeds. But people were quick to forget and even quicker to point their fingers, and after so long Aiden couldn't find it in himself to care anymore. 

He didn't feel like a monster just because they said so. But he certainly felt like a monster for killing innocents. He was taking away their choice just like a mage took away his. He was no better than the people he despised so much.

It all started when he was sent to kill Lord Darnay cause his own family decided he was no suitable successor to the name and heritage they represented. Aiden was presented with 1000 crowns to get rid of the unwanted heir, and he was not in the position to refuse. His last contracts were unsuccessful, he had run out of money weeks before arriving in town and now even his potions were running low. It should have been an easy job, kill a dumb Lord who probably never hold a sword in his life. It should have been easy, but that's not what happened.

Right after entering the royal chamber, Aiden faced a wide-eyed kid staring at him. He was no older than 7, maybe 8 years old, but he was not terrified, a little surprised yes, but not scared as everyone would be after seeing a stranger entering through their window. No one mentioned that this Lord Darnay was a fucking child! There was absolutely nothing in the world this boy could do to represent a problem, for anyone, he was barely old enough for school for fuck's sake. 

The knife in his hand felt like lead rather than silver. The room was utterly silent, Aiden looked at the kid expecting him to scream, but he didn't. He simply said: "It's my turn now?" Aiden stared back disoriented, he refused to believe this kid understood why he was there.

"Uncle sent you?" His throat was not fully cooperating and he had a hard time finding the words to answer, he nodded, the dagger in his hand felt heavier by the minute. The kid sitting up on the huge bed keeps worrying a loose thread in the blue blanket above him, he speaks as if he's confessing a terrible sin.  
"He doesn't like me. He did something to my father but I'm not supposed to speak about it. Dad was very brave. Are you brave?"

Brave, as if! He was sent to slit his throat, that was not bravery. Brave means you have a choice, he never had one. He could choose between Ghouls and Bruxae and humans for his contracts, that's how far his decisions could go. He could pick whether to stay with the Caravan and risk being killed with his brothers or he could travel the Path alone and be killed by a monster or zealous townfolks. At best, he could decide how he dies, certainly not how he lives. No one with a real choice would turn into what he is or do what he does.

In that room with the boy, in the deep silence of the night with a sliver of moonlight illuminating their surroundings, Aiden felt like a monster. He hadn't felt that way in a long while. It was the first time he was sent to kill an innocent, all the others were different, he felt that the assholes he was sent to murder deserved to finally meet their fate. Not this time though.

A servant entered the room unexpectedly and held back the scream already on his lips. He frantically moved his gaze between the child and Aiden as he started muttering something about how Lord Havilland already killed his own brother. Finally, he understood.

He was sent to kill this kid so a rich Lord could become even richer and more powerful. He couldn't fake another hunting accident so he sent the Witcher to do his bloody job. Great, just great. Nobles and their obsession with money and titles, what did they ever do to deserve all they had? Killed someone, won a tournament, led soldiers to be slaughtered in a war for a nameless King that didn't give a fuck about them? They had wealth, titles, castles, a legion of slaves and mages at their service, and yet it was never enough, they wanted more, more wealth, more slaves, more titles, more. Disgusting. They could be anything they wanted to be and yet they decided to be awful.

Aiden spared a glance toward the kid and decided right there and then that this kid was not dying because his uncle was an asshole.  
"Another one will come to finish my job, he can't stay here." The butler is faster than what he gave him credit to be and answered immediately: "I have a sister in Oxenfurt, she can take care of him." 

"Go then. Get as far away from here as possible." True to his word, the servant took the child and was out of the door in a heartbeat, minutes later Aiden saw them riding past the southern gate. He stares at the dagger in his hand for a second and he ponders his options. The kid will live to see another day, and that will have to be enough for the miserable excuse of a conscience he has. His uncle won't though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this, I hope you liked it!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it at least a tiny bit! Thank you for reading anyway <3


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